


Angles

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 06:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2181006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yaku Morisuke has to apologise to Haiba Lev. Unfortunately Lev is refusing to reply to his messages and has now skipped practise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angles

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the YakuLev week on tumblr. The prompt (loosely followed) was 'dress up.'

Yaku Morisuke kicked a stone in the street as he meandered home. It hadn’t been a good day. Weekend volleyball training was always exhausting, but also fun – especially if they didn’t have a match coming up. But today Yaku knew he’d been lacklustre and peevish. Inuoka’s enthusiasm on the other side of the court, usually endearing, had left him frazzled and he’d barked out orders when coaching Shibayama.

In the end, the coach and Kuroo had called him over.

“What’s wrong, Yaku?” Coach Naoi asked him.

“Nothing.”

Kuroo had given him a look. It was the kind of look that said ‘Yeah, right’ and Yaku had waited for him to intensify the interrogation, but Kuroo had instead looked over Yaku’s shoulder and gestured to Shibayama, who instead of taking a break, was now practising flying falls.

“Has he done something wrong?”

“No ... nothing.” Yaku pinched the top of his nose, rubbing his brow in an attempt to ward off a headache. “He’s fine. I’m sorry, okay. I’ll be easier on him.”

“Go home,” Naoi said. “Your mind isn’t here today, and we only have half an hour left.”

“No, I’ll-”

 

But Kuroo was looking at him again, and he knew it was better to leave before he got his hooks in and demanded to know what the problem was.

 

The problem was a certain Middle Blocker. An infuriating Middle Blocker. A Middle Blocker with long legs, floppy blond hair, slanting Slavic eyes and a smile that could melt through Russian snow. A Middle Blocker who hadn’t turned up for practise today.

And it was Yaku’s fault. It was all Yaku’s fault. _Everything._

He brought out his phone, hoping that something had changed since he’d checked it forty-five seconds ago, but no, it remained the same. No one had called, and no one had left a message. More pertinently, Lev hadn’t called, and he hadn’t answered the three messages, Yaku had sent today, or the five he’d sent last night.

 _‘I’m coming over’,_ he tapped.  His thumb hesitated a fraction – perhaps he shouldn’t force Lev to see him - but then he hit send. Lev might not want to see him, but Yaku _had_ to sort this out. He blocked out (or tried to) the voice whispering incessantly, _‘However much it hurts’_.

He reached Lev’s house only a few minutes later, and after taking a few gulping breaths, crossed over the road until he stood at the front gate. The Haibas lived in a good part of town. They owned a larger than average house, with a well-kept front garden that only reflected the back and the interior of the house.  Yaku had been here before, usually on his way to pick Lev up for practise, or to walk back with him because it was on his route home. He’d even been inside once, when a storm had started and Lev’s mum insisted she’d give him a lift home.

“You walked my boy home,” she said, her Japanese heavily accented. “He is scared of the storm approaching. You are a good young man. Respectful.”

He hadn’t told her that the reason he’d walked Lev back had been nothing to do with the thunder in the sky, but had everything to do with the thunder in his head whenever he was with him.

Thunder that was so loud, he was barely capable of hearing anything else. And that had been the problem because since the day Lev had sauntered into Nekoma’s gymnasium, all coltish long limbs and startling blue eyes, Yaku hadn’t been able to focus.

Kuroo had guessed. Kuroo had seen the blanching horror, erased by pink whenever Coach Naoi paired Yaku with Lev (because heaven knew, Lev needed someone who was good with receives to teach him) but he’d not helped at all. The only thing Kuroo had done was tell Yaku that acting on instinct was the way a cat survived.

_Great help you were!_

Instinct, which had served Yaku so well on the court, had led him disastrously astray. They’d been working together, Lev finally getting to grips with taking a receive without flinching. And he’d been so pleased. So gleeful that for once he hadn’t tonked the ball out of bounds, but had managed to send it back over the net, that Yaku had burst out laughing. Lev had been offended, not realising that Yaku was laughing with him, and the smile on his face had dropped.

He’d looked so hurt.

 _So_ hurt.

He’d turned to Yaku, his huge eyes glistening as if he were about to cry, and Yaku had been unable to bear it.

“No,” he’d whispered, crouching down beside him. “You were good, Lev-kun. Really good.”

“Was I?” His lip trembled. “Only ... this is so haaaard.”

“You’re getting better” Yaku soothed.

He’d meant to leave it there, to perhaps squeeze Lev on the shoulder and order him back to practise, but Lev had, at that moment, parted his lips to say something ... and Yaku was lost.

Lev’s mouth was wide. His lips a pale pink, quite unlike the dark red of his teammates. Yaku’s hand was already on Lev’s shoulder, but then he twitched it upwards and found his fingers entangled in Lev’s soft, flaxen hair.

And from there, it was only a short step, a centimetre at most, a hair’s breadth, a soft breath for Yaku to plant a kiss on Lev’s pale tremulous lips.

 

_Oh shit, what the hell did I do?_

This was a bad idea. He’d turn away, walk back home and wait for Lev to message him.  But just as he pulled out his phone, intent on texting that he’d changed his mind, he saw a curtain ruffle.

Lev was at the window, his face in profile. And then he was gone.

Well, he couldn’t leave now. Lev had clearly seen him, and even if he refused to open the door, Yaku wasn’t going to give up.

Aware he always frowned when he was determined, Yaku made a concerted effort to un-crease his brow, and unknot his eyebrows before he reached the door.  He should smile, perhaps, then Lev who no doubt would peek at him through the spy hole first would see he meant well.

But what if Lev thought that Yaku smiling meant he was after something more and was so terrified he refused to let him in. Or wouldn’t come back to volleyball. Or leave Nekoma. Report him to the Coach. Or the Dean. Have Yaku arrested for ... um ... um ...

No, it was just a kiss. A stupid, mistake of a kiss. He hadn’t done anything else. He was pretty sure his hands hadn’t ...

His right hand had been in Lev’s hair. His left on the floor. Yes, it was okay. Just a kiss.

A beautiful kiss. A nuzzling of lips, before Yaku woke up to what was happening and pulled away. Before he could splutter an apology, Inuoka had bounded into the room, telling Yaku that the coach wanted them back in the main gym.

He squared his shoulders, attempted to fix a neutral yet apologetic expression on his face (but suspected he looked more like Kenma at his most dopey game-engrossed) and reached out to knock on the door.

It opened before he knocked. But it wasn’t Lev standing there. Instead a girl faced him. It had to be his sister. Katja, he thought Lev had said. She was about twelve, but looked older as her face was plastered with make-up. With blonde hair swept up in a tight ponytail, she had the same slanting eyes as Lev (smeared with green eye-shadow) but her lips were fuller, her nose a little smaller, and she wasn’t as tall. 

But still taller than Yaku.

“Lev’s a little busy,” Katja said, giggling to herself.

“Uh ... can you tell him it’s really important?”

“Oh, you can tell him that yourself. He told me to tell you to come in and wait. Unless that’s a problem.” She giggled again and opened the door wider. “Is that a problem?”

“No.” He shook his head, bewildered by her laughter. Had Lev told her what had happened?

“Katjaaaaa!” Lev’s voice floated towards them. “Can you come here please?”

“Just showing Yaku-san inside,” she trilled back, then started to spout something in a different language, laughing again.

“Stop that!” Yaku could almost see the pout on Lev’s lips as he chided his sister. “You know I don’t understand Russian.”

“Lev-chan is a dumbass,” Katja replied, her eyes alight with mischief. “He says you’re a Year Three student. Are you here to tutor him?”

“Uh ... not really.”  He paused to remove his shoes. “We play volleyball together.”

She scrunched up her nose, boredom flitting across her face, then after showing him into the living room at the front of the room, sauntered away to a room on the right, where Lev was still calling for her.

Yaku didn’t sit, but wandered over to study a large painting on the wall. It wasn’t a good painting, at least he didn’t think so. It was a mass of shapes and angles, stark white against icier blues, glacial silvers. It was cold and un-enticing. And looking at it made him feel awkward and out of place in this perfect setting.

“Yaku-san.” Lev’s voice was quiet, breathy.

Gulping, Yaku turned around, trying to phrase an immediate apology, a plea to not stay away from volleyball because of him. ‘Itwon’thappenagain!” he burbled, then swallowed. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Hmm?”

“Volleyball club. You skipped practise. And I don’t want you to think that you have to leave because you’re afraid I’ll jump on you,” Yaku replied, his words fast and furious, tripping up his tongue as a hideous blush suffused his face.

“Um...” Lev stepped into the room, a puzzled frown on his face. “I haven’t left. I told Coach Naoi I couldn’t make it because I had to take care of Katja. My parents are out of town. I suppose I could have brought her along, but she would have been so annoying.” He raised his eyebrows. “You have no idea just how rude she can be to people. It’s _so_ embarrassing.”

Yaku choked. “I think I have an idea.”

“Sit, sit,” Lev said. He gestured to the sofa, his hand outstretched, then suddenly he clenched his fingers back into his palm. “Um... I’ll get you some tea.”

“No, no, Lev, please,” Yaku said, stepping towards him. “I won’t stay long. I just don’t want things to be awkward and ...”

“Awkward?” Lev stared at him, bemused but still wary. Then he started. “I need to see Katja a minute.”

“Lev!” Grabbing his arm, Yaku twisted him around, his hand plucking at Lev’s. “Please, can we just talk? I need to ...” He cast his eyes down, searching for the words. “I need to ... Uh ...” He blinked. “Lev, why are you wearing nail varnish on your pinkie?”

“NO!” Lev squealed and whipped his hand away. “It’s ... not ... um nooo, I’m not wearing-”

Yaku peered closer, his mouth fighting not to smile. “And ... uh ... that’s mascara, isn’t it?”

“No ... no it’s not. I ... um ...  KATJA!”

A pitter-patter of footsteps, and then she poked her head around the door. Her green eye shadow from before had been changed to purple, and she held a lipstick in her hand. “What is it, Lev-chan?”

Lev took a huge breath, his whole body shaking. “Katja, will you please explain to my senpai why I’m wearing nail-varnish on my little finger, ” he said, adding waspishly,  “And then explain to _me_ why you didn’t remove it?”

“Didn’t I?” she replied, her eyes wide with an innocence Yaku was she was faking. Then she turned her attention to Yaku, a small smile playing on her red glossy lips. “Lev and I like to play with make-up. Don’t you think he’s prettier when-”

“KATJA!” Lev howled. “TELL THE TRUTH! I ONLY LET YOU BECAUSE ... BECAUSE...”

Tears starting in his eyes, Yaku couldn’t stop the giggle erupting from inside. The sight of Lev crouched down and desperate, imploring his sister as he curled his one cerulean blue little fingernail into his palm, was making him feel lightheaded.

“I don’t do this,” Lev whispered, tearing his eyes away to look at Yaku. “You have to believe me, but my sister is obsessed with make-up, and as I was stuck looking after her, I said she could practise. Please ... please ... don’t tell anyone.” He swallowed. “Yaku-senpai, please don’t tell Kuroo-san.”

Yaku tried to pull his face straight, but when Katja broke into another fit of giggles, he was lost and collapsed into laughter.

“IT’S NOT FUNNY!” Lev screeched. “Why are you laughing with her? “

“Because ...because...” Yaku wheezed, and wiped a tear from his eye. He bent down beside him. “Lev – Lev-kun, I have a sister. She’s older, and she’s a beautician. So ... uh ... who do think she used to practise on?”  He held out his hands, displaying to both Lev and Katja his very neat nails. “And who do you think she still gives free manicures to? That’s why I don’t have as many callouses as Kuroo.”

“She’s a beautician!” Katja sighed, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “Oh, that’s just what I want to do, but Mama says I’m too smart.”

“Hmm, well, my sister’s smart, too, but after college, she decided that was her calling.”  He grinned at Katja. “She wants to open her own place. I think she’ll end up with a string of them. Maybe one day you’ll be running her Russian branches.”

With a huge smile on her face, Katja ran from the room, leaving Yaku and Lev still sitting on the floor.

“Why did you come over?”Lev asked, breaking the silence.

“I needed to talk to you about what happened yesterday,” Yaku muttered. “And you didn’t reply to any of my messages.”

“Oh!” Lev looked sheepish. “I dropped my phone in the bath. It’s gone. Kaput. Papa’s furious which is why I got stuck babysitting my evil little sister. .. Um ... you messaged me?”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I have done?”

“Um ... well...”Lev cleared his throat, then shifted his position so his legs were stretched out in front of him. He cast Yaku a glance, from under his impossibly long and now snootily dark lashes. “You kind of ignored me, so I ... um ... assumed you didn’t ... um ... That you regretted it.”

Yaku blinked. Was Lev upset? Was he wishing the kiss hadn’t happened, or wishing it had continued?

“I’m your senpai,” he muttered. “It shouldn’t have happened. So, I wanted to say sorry, and that it won’t happen again. I don’t want anything to be awkward between us.”

“It won’t be awkward.”

“Good.” Yaku started to get up, but just then Katja burst back into the room holding out her phone. “Kimi wants me to go over, Lev-chan. I can, can’t I?”

“Which Kimi?” Lev asked.

“Next door Kimi,” she replied promptly, rolling her eyes as she added “Kimi Shito’s not my friend anymore. I told you that at breakfast.”

“Uh ... sure,” Lev replied. “Leave me the nail varnish remover, okay?”

“Will do,” she replied as she ran out to put on her shoes.

He grinned as he watched her go, and then turned to Yaku. “She’ll be friends again with Kimi Shito by tomorrow. She’s very ... um ... what’s that word you used about Kuroo-san? Capr-something. I looked it up, and it suits her.”

“Capricious,” Yaku said, getting to his feet. “I’ll be on my way, too.”

“Oh.” Lev wilted. It was as if he were a sunflower, suddenly cast in the shade, his head drooping.

“Well, we’ve forgotten about it, and things are okay between us, aren’t they?” Yaku stepped towards the door, but as he looked back over his shoulder, he took in the room, the stark colours of the painting a perfect match to the stark colouring of the boy in front of him. A boy of sharp angles, but surprising grace. Embarrassing and full of himself, but honest to the core.

“Yes, they are,” Lev agreed. But he sounded sad. “Yaku-san. I didn’t read your messages.”

“Yes, you explained, so I know you weren’t ignoring me,” Yaku replied as he slipped his shoes back on.

“But I still let you in.”

“Um ... well, I assume you were being polite.”

“Me? Polite?” Lev laughed, the sound jarring round the room because bitterness rang through it. “You’re always telling me I’m rude and tactless. I’m never polite because I forget I’m supposed to be. It gets me into trouble all the time. You know that.”

“Lev, it doesn’t matter. I assumed you wanted to talk this through and we have,” Yaku replied and reached for the door handle.

Then Lev stepped towards him, and placed his hand on the door to block Yaku’s way. It was the hand with the painted fingernail, and as Yaku stared, he felt his mouth dry and his heart start to thump in throat.

“I need to leave,” he rasped.

“I liked you kissing me,” Lev pleaded. “I wanted it to happen, and I was pleased it did. If Inuoka hadn’t come in when he had, I would have kissed you back.”

Yaku stared at Lev, stared directly into his eyes, and marvelled at the sincerity he saw there. But Lev must have seen something different because with a whimpering kind of sigh, he slumped back against the wall, leaving the way clear for Yaku to leave.

“It’s –” Yaku swallowed. He’d had a speech prepared. There was something in it about how inappropriate it was because Lev was only fifteen and Yaku was nearly eighteen. He’d decided to start the speech with an apology and a promise that it would never happen again. He’d planned it all the night before, refining on his way here.

But right at that moment as he stared at Lev’s downcast face, Yaku couldn’t remember a word of it.

“I liked kissing you, too,” he admitted.

“Then?”

He should have stayed strong, but the hope in Lev’s tone was what broke the last bit of resistance he had, like an apple finally falling from the tree. “I suppose I _could_ stay a while.”

Lev’s face lit up, the same way it did when he hit a spike, or managed a receive without sprawling on the floor. A gurgle of a laugh escaped from his lips as he bowed towards Yaku. His long fingers grasped Yaku’s shoulders as he brought him closer. And then their lips met. Yaku’s mouth mirroring Lev’s as the kiss intensified, parting as the pressure increased, teeth nuzzling lips, hands clutching at hair.

And gods it was good. After all the imagining, the hateful tortuous nights where he’d dreamt of this moment, of Lev crushing him close, Yaku relaxed and luxuriated in the utter perfection of Lev’s kiss.

At last he pulled away, but the smile didn’t leave his face. He smacked his lips together, wondering at the taste of Lev and something else.

“Cherry?” he queried.

Lev gave a small giggle. “Katja’s lip-gloss. Do you like it?”

“Mmm.”

Lev ran his tongue around his mouth, and smiled lasciviously. “You’ve kissed it all off, Yaku-san.”

“Shame,” he murmured.

“She’ll have left it in her room. Would you like me to fetch it?”

“ I think I would,” Yaku said softly.

“Then we’re going to kiss again,” Lev replied happily.

 _Yeah,_ Yaku thought, as he let Lev take his hand. _I think we are._ “One thing.”

“What is it, Yaku-san?”

“No, not Yaku, not now. Lev- _chan_ , call me Morisuke.”

 


End file.
